


A Beautiful Sort of Pain

by Mortimer_Dead_Sea



Series: Fuck Stephen King: Mort Goes Apeshit Over IT [11]
Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Pennywise (IT), Eddie Kaspbrak Loves Richie Tozier, Flower Language, Fuck Stephen King, Gay Eddie Kaspbrak, Gay Richie Tozier, Hanahaki Disease, M/M, References to Eli (2019) on Netflix, Richie Tozier Loves Eddie Kaspbrak, Richie Tozier has hanahaki disease, Swearing, That's why it's rated T, Vomiting, blood mention, he's vomiting flowers, more hanahaki, more of it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-25
Updated: 2019-11-25
Packaged: 2021-02-18 11:53:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21560725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mortimer_Dead_Sea/pseuds/Mortimer_Dead_Sea
Summary: “'What… What do I do?' Richie asked, choking up.Eddie looked at him, and Richie saw a shine in his eyes that was not there when he walked in. 'That’s up to you… And until you decide, I’m gonna help you.'Richie froze, the phrase 'time spent around the person' playing and replaying in his mind. 'Why?''Because you’re still sick and exerting yourself too much could make things worse,' Eddie said. He was moving right back into his usual worrywort self and Richie almost felt relieved. He wasn’t sure whether 'normal Eddie' or 'Eddie that was tearing up at the idea of Richie dying' would be worse for his throat."Richie has Hanahaki and Eddie decides to take care of him. Unfortunately, since Eddie is the source of all of Richie's woes, his Hanahaki speeds itself along.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Series: Fuck Stephen King: Mort Goes Apeshit Over IT [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1511162
Comments: 10
Kudos: 257





	A Beautiful Sort of Pain

**Author's Note:**

> Someone commented on my other Hanahaki fic an idea where Richie has Hanahaki and Eddie takes care of him through it, which inevitably makes the Hanahaki worse. I thought it was great and decided to go for it. Hanahaki is so much fun to write. So here’s some Hanahaki but with Richie this time.
> 
> Please note, I don’t always follow through on ideas people comment on my fics, I just liked this one a lot and was able to form it in my head. I guess I am open to prompts? But I make no promises as to whether or not I’ll follow through.
> 
> Richie has multiple flowers since I couldn’t pick just one, so in this version, the flowers do symbolize the person and a person can have multiple flowers.
> 
> Also semi-important thing: For people who haven’t seen Eli, I won’t spoil anything, but it’s a movie about a kid who’s essentially allergic to everything and so his parents take him to a facility that operates as a house with a team of in-house doctors. When my housemates and I first watched the trailer, one of my housemates thought that the twist was going to be Munchhausen by proxy, which is basically what Eddie’s mom is doing to him. That’s basically all you need to know for the references to make sense.

Richie had known he was in love with Eddie for a while now. He just hadn’t expected this to happen.

The second he started coughing, Eddie was by his side, rubbing up and down his back and asking a million questions. Was he sick? How long had he been sick? What was wrong? Should he go home and rest? Did he need anything?

He looked about two seconds away from pulling out his inhaler for Richie to use, Richie could only cough harder, until finally he choked out a single flower petal. It was lavender, deeper with saturation from it’s journey through Richie’s throat. Eddie’s eyes widened, and Richie felt a sort of panic fill him.

“What is it?” he asked, feeling an itchiness in his throat that refused to leave him.

Eddie stared down at the petal for a few moments longer before looking at Richie’s face.

“I think you have Hanahaki Disease,” he said. And he looked so nervous, that Richie couldn’t help the panic building in his stomach.

\----

Eddie made sure Richie was home and upstairs in his room before heading back out with a promise he would be back soon. Richie spent the whole time playing Pokemon on his 3DS before Eddie returned with his full backpack and a plastic bag. He plopped them both on the ground and began to unload his backpack, pulling out wet wipes, several bottles of pills Richie couldn’t identify, and what looked like a textbook.

“Did you really bring homework for me to do?”

Eddie rolled his eyes before flashing the cover. “It’s about Hanahaki Disease, dipshit. It has the history, how it works, different cures,  _ and _ a section in the back for flower analysis.”

Richie blinked. “I don’t know what any of that means.”

Eddie sat on the edge of his bed, hip close enough for Richie to reach out and nudge him. So he did, and Eddie smacked his foot as he cracked open the giant book.

“Hanahaki Disease is an illness that inflicts certain individuals who have fallen in love,” Eddie began. “It causes flowers to grow in the person’s throat, generally ranging anywhere between one and five different types. Each flower has a specific meaning tied to the object’s of the inflicted one’s affections. Number of flowers, time spent around the person, and a number of other factors can affect how quickly the flowers grow.”

Richie’s eyes widened, feeling a brand new panic bubbling in his stomach as he stared at Eddie and his giant fucking book and his bottles of pills that were all just so  _ Eddie _ and- shit, he could feel stems growing in his throat, thorns poking into the lining. He coughed, eyes tearing up ever so slightly. He decided to play it off with a joke.

“So you’re telling me I’m literally lovesick, Eds?” he asked, trying to muster up a smile.

Eddie smacked his foot again. “This is  _ serious, _ Richie. And don’t call me Eds.”

Richie’s face fell. “H-How serious? How do I make it go away?”

Eddie sighed. “You have three options. Option number one is confessing to the person-”

“Out of the question,” Richie said. “Next.”

Eddie rolled his eyes again. “Well, the idea behind that one, is that the flowers go away if the person reciprocates your feelings. Option two is having surgery to remove them.”

“Well, that seems fine enough,” Richie said. “I mean, surgery sucks, but if it fixes it.”

“The downside is that having them removed also removes your love for the person,” Eddie explained.

Richie’s blood ran cold. His two options were either confess to Eddie, and risk being rejected and faced with Eddie’s disgust over the fact that Richie was both gay and in love with him, or… Not be in love with Eddie at all. For a brief moment, Richie considered it, considered having his love for Eddie removed. Life would certainly be easier after that, and he wouldn’t risk losing Eddie entirely if he caught wind of Richie’s feelings.

But Richie had to shut down that idea, too. He honestly didn’t want to know a world where he didn’t love Eddie, didn’t want to know what else would change if his feelings did. So much of his relationship with Eddie was built on the fact that Richie took one look at him at the age of seven and felt something entirely new in him spark, something that made him do anything if it meant he got at least a fraction of Eddie’s attention. Richie annoyed the shit out of him because he wanted more than anything for Eddie to look at him, to touch him, in anyway he could have it. Whether he was laughing at his jokes, or cursing him out, wrestling with him, or leaning into his side, Richie would take anything he could get. Losing that was one of the scariest things that had ever crossed Richie’s mind.

“So… My options are telling the person or losing my love for them?” Richie asked, voice hoarse.

Eddie nodded. “Otherwise… Option three is that the flowers grow until they choke you and-” Eddie cut off suddenly with a sound that sounded suspiciously like a sob. “And you die…”

Richie’s heart stopped. He was stuck between a rock, a hard place, and...  _ dying. _

“What… What do I  _ do?” _ Richie asked, choking up.

Eddie looked at him, and Richie saw a shine in his eyes that was not there when he walked in. “That’s up to you… And until you decide, I’m gonna help you.”

Richie froze, the phrase  _ “time spent around the person” _ playing and replaying in his mind. “Why?”

“Because you’re still sick and exerting yourself too much could make things worse,” Eddie said. He was moving right back into his usual worrywort self and Richie almost felt relieved. He wasn’t sure whether “normal Eddie” or “Eddie that was tearing up at the idea of Richie dying” would be worse for his throat. 

Eddie continued, “Plus, flowers in your throat means eating is going to be harder and I know for a fact you have no idea how to cook.” He gestured to the pill bottles and the plastic bag. “I brought painkillers for your throat and stuff to make soup with.”

Richie felt his heart swell, and immediately started to cough. Eddie jumped up and grabbed the thing of wet wipes, ripping up open to dab at the spit and phlegm gathering at the corners of Richie’s mouth.

“The wet wipes are for messes,” Eddie said, voice soft.

This was going to be the hardest thing Richie had ever done.

\----

Richie watched television while Eddie made the soup. Then Eddie brought him a bowl, made sure he took some painkillers first, and then sat down next to him while they watched television together. Richie had moved on from playing Pokemon to watching Pokemon on Netflix. Normally Eddie refused to eat on a bed, and at least pretended to to be put off when Richie put on cartoons (even though Richie knew Eddie liked them, and Eddie probably knew that Richie knew he liked them), but now he just sat in silence, obviously wanting Richie to be comfortable.

Richie felt stems grow further in his throat, and he started coughing again. Eddie carefully set his soup off to the side, and rubbed a hand comfortingly up and down Richie’s back until he coughed up another petal, this one pink and purple. Eddie grimaced, and Richie shrank in on himself.

He was  _ screwed. _

\----

Their new routine went as followed.

Eddie would show up at Richie’s after school to bring him his homework, make sure he did his homework, make sure he took some painkillers, make sure he ate, and assess the state of the trash can Richie was tasked with putting any and all flower petals he coughed up in so Eddie could see whether or not it was getting worse. Then Eddie would pack up once the sun was starting to set so he could go home, and then the routine repeated itself.

After a couple of days, it seemed clear that Richie was coughing up petals from four flowers. One was lavender, one was pink and purple, one was white, and one was green. Without full flower heads, Eddie wasn’t sure he’d be able to name them with any accuracy. Richie hoped he never coughed up any full heads.

Eddie made clam chowder that night, creamy and with small chunks of potato and clams so that it was easy for Richie to swallow. It was Friday night, and Eddie had taken it easy on him when it came to how much homework he did. They had watched movies together, and more Pokemon, and read comics that Eddie had brought over. Now, food in hand, they were back to watching movies. After half an hour of protests, Richie had convinced Eddie to watch a horror movie with him, sunset and lights out. They scrolled through the horror movies on Netflix before settling on one titled  _ Eli. _

“Really hope this doesn’t dredge up too many awful memories,” Eddie said after they watched the trailer. Richie laughed and hit play.

They ate as they watched, nothing too scary happening yet. Once they had finished eating, Eddie placed the bowls on the bedside table to be washed later (much to his own annoyance. Richie refused to let him get up until the movie was over).

As the movie progressed, Richie started to feel a sense of dread creeping up on him. When the first jumpscare happened, both he and Eddie jumped and grabbed at each other, hiding their faces in each other’s shoulders.

They spent a lot of the movie like that, like how they watched most horror movies, curled into each other, taking turns looking at the screen to see when it was safe, and gripping even tighter with each scare. Eddie was so close to him, holding him so tight, and Richie felt stems grow further, petals tickling and thorns poking, and he began to cough again. Eddie immediately went to move, but Richie shook his head and pulled him closer. Eddie hesitated, but then his arms were back around him, and Richie didn’t move his head again until the end of the movie, holding back coughs and tears.

Once the movie was finished, Eddie ran a soothing hand up and down Richie’s back until he deemed him calm enough, and then carefully extracted himself to go clean the bowls. Richie curled up in his blankets, listening to the running faucet and the clink of porcelain, until Eddie returned.

“I can stay here tonight if you want,” Eddie said, and without even thinking, Richie nodded.

Richie spent the whole night valiantly fighting off his impending coughing fits, but when he woke up the next morning to realize that Eddie had wrapped his arms around him, spooning Richie in his sleep, Richie hacked up an entire flower head.

\----

Richie hacked up a flower head for each flower, and Eddie was able to identify each one and explain what they meant.

“Lavender roses mean ‘love at first sight’.”

That was accurate.

“Geraniums, oak-leaved, mean ‘true friendship’.”

Also accurate.

“White camellias mean ‘you’re adorable’.”

A little too on the nose there.

“And hydrangeas mean ‘frigidity and coldheartedness’. Well that one’s shitty.” Eddie frowned at the book, but then his face softened. “Oh wait. They also mean ‘gratitude for being understood’. That probably makes more sense.” 

Richie cringed. Yeah, that all sounded about right.

Eddie looked solemnly down at his book. “The person you love must be pretty great.”

Richie swallowed thickly, wincing at the sting it sent down his throat. His voice was quiet and hoarse as he spoke, “Yeah, I’d say so.”

“Try not to talk too much, the Hanahaki is getting worse.” Eddie set the book down and frowned at Richie. “Richie… You need to decide what to do, and  _ soon. _ You’re coughing up whole flowers, and there are four of them, and hydrangeas aren’t small. It won’t belong before-...” Eddie cut himself off, and let out a shuddering breath. 

Richie nodded. “I’m just… Scared, Eds.”

Eddie nodded in turn, and sat down on the bed next to him. Eddie hadn’t objected to the nickname in a while.

They sat in silence for a while until Eddie spoke up. “Can I ask… Is it Bev?”

Richie’s eyes widened, and he shook his head. Under other circumstances, he would have laughed at the question.

“Oh…” Eddie frowned again. “I don’t know many other girls, honestly.”

Richie closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and made a decision.

“He’s not a girl,” Richie said.

A silence fell over the two of them, and Eddie slowly turned to look at him. He looked… Maybe shocked. Or surprised. Or just… Unbelieving.

“Are you… Are you gay?”

Richie cast his eyes down and nodded.

“Oh…” Eddie’s voice was soft. He remained silent for a few excruciating heartbeats, and then he said, “Me too.”

Richie’s head snapped up, and he was met with Eddie’s comforting gaze and kind smile. He let out a relieved breath, and Eddie reached out to gently squeeze one of his hands.

They were both quiet for a few moments, before Eddie spoke up again.

“In that case, is it Stan?” Eddie asked. “Or Bill?”

Richie shook his head again. 

“Well then is it Ben? Or Mike?”

Again, Richie shook his head. He would have laughed any other day, but right now, his feelings meant life or death. And he couldn’t bear it if Eddie knew.

Eddie frowned again. “I’m running out of people here.”

Richie shrugged.

Eddie thought for a few moments, and then began, “Is it-”

“Please stop,” Richie pleaded, voice choked. “Please.”

Eddie closed his mouth, dipped his down, and nodded.

Eddie ran through his checklist of things Richie needed before he went home. As soon as Richie heard the front door shut, he burst into tears, coughing up petal after petal after petal.

\----

“You ok, Eddie?”

Eddie looked up from his food, and immediately noticed everyone worried gazes trained on him. He sighed.

“Just worried about Richie,” he said. “He needs to decide what to do before it’s too late.”

All his friends nodded, all looking just as concerned.

Taking care of Richie for the past week had been its own form of beautiful torture. He loved Richie,  _ loved him, _ and had loved him for years, and he loved being able to spend so much time with him, even if it was under drastic circumstances. But knowing that Richie was in love with someone, to the point that it was literally slowly killing him, was almost too much to bear. He wanted more than anything for Richie to be happy, and healthy, and he wanted that no matter how it happened, but a deeply selfish part of him almost hoped that Richie would ultimately end up having the surgery so that Eddie could continue entertaining the idea that maybe Richie would one day love him, too. Every time the thought entered his head, he felt a deep sense of shame and guilt.

“I tried asking him who it was to see if I could gauge the potential reaction of the person but all I got out of it was that it probably isn’t anyone I know really well,” Eddie continued. “He wouldn’t tell me who it was.”

His eyes swept over his friends. They were all staring at him slack-jawed. Some looked incredulous. Bev looked indignant.

“Eddie, you dense motherfucker,” she said.

Eddie’s face burned.  _ “What?” _

Stan spoke up next. “Eddie… Richie hasn’t told any of us this directly but…” He looked around for a few moments and then lowered his voice. “We’re all pretty sure he’s in love with you.”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “No… No way, that’s not possible.”

“Seriously, Eddie,” Bev said. “Anyone who looks at Richie can see the way he looks at you. There are very few people in this world as important to Richie as you are to him.” 

“Y-Yeah. It’s always y-you he b-buys ice cream for and sh-shares the h-hammock with,” Bill added. “If h-he’s in love with anyone, it’s y-you.”

Everyone else nodded in agreement. Eddie slumped back in his chair, eyes trained on his food.

“Eddie…”

Eddie looked back up at the sound of Bev’s soft voice.

“Are you in love with Richie?” she asked.

Eddie paused at that, face heating up. He had only just told Richie he was gay, he wasn’t expecting to tell the rest of the losers so soon. 

But they had seemed so relaxed at the idea of Richie being in love with Eddie. And they were all looking at him with kind, patient eyes, and soft smiles.

And so he said, “Yeah. Yeah, I am.”

Bev nodded. “We figured that, too. You look at him the way he looks at you.”

“Everything Richie does for you is reciprocated,” Stan added, and Eddie knew they were all right.

Oddly enough, the idea of them knowing didn’t bother him anymore.

\----

When Eddie went to Richie’s house after school, he was greeted with the sight of blood and phlegm all over Richie’s mouth and hands, and a heap of flower heads in the trash bin.

“Oh my god,  _ Richie.” _ Eddie rushed to his side, immediately grabbing the wet wipes to clean his face and hands. Richie cried as he did so.

“Richie,  _ please,  _ you need to do something,” Eddie pleaded. There were tears in his eyes, and knew it wouldn’t take much to send him over the edge, just like Richie. “This is only getting worse.”

“I can’t.” Richie voice was hoarse, and choked, and barely audible, and that pushed Eddie right over.

_ “Please, _ Richie.” Eddie wiped at the last bit around his mouth and tossed the wet wipe. “I can’t lose you.”

Richie remained silent, tears falling down his cheeks. Eddie reached out to wipe them away, and Richie began to cough again.

When Eddie spoke next, he spoke almost without knowing it, the words wrenched out of him at the sound of Richie dying.

“I love you.”

Richie stopped coughing, and slowly looked up at Eddie.

“You’re lying,” he said.

Eddie stared at him, eyebrows furrowed. “I am  _ not _ lying, why would you think I’m lying, you asshole! Of  _ course  _ I love you, who else in this fucking world would I love?”

Tears slid silently down Richie’s face, catching on Eddie’s thumbs.

“I…” Richie swallowed, and winced. “I… Love you.”

Eddie sighed, shakily, a sense of relief flooding through him. “I love you, too.”

And then Richie started coughing again. Eddie reached for the trash can, holding it up so that Richie could wrap his arms around it, and he carefully moved a hand up and down Richie’s back as he coughed up every last flower that had made its home in his throat, thorns, stems, and all.

Once he was finished, Eddie set the bin down, and gave one last wipe to Richie’s mouth with the wet wipes, and wiped his tears with a tissue.

“I’m sorry I made this worse,” Eddie said. “I know spending time with the person can speed the process along.”

Richie shook his head, and grasped Eddie’s face. “You have nothing to apologize for,” he said, his voice renewed. Eddie had never been so happy to hear Richie’s voice before.

Then Richie leaned forward, and as soon as they lips brushed together, Eddie pulled him closer. Eddie didn’t care about the taste of blood in his mouth, he had been waiting for this moment for years.

They laid down side by side, holding each other tightly, Eddie’s face resting under Richie’s chin. A content sigh left him.

Then he said, “I can’t believe your psychological throat flowers called me cute.” He smiled when Richie laughed, loud, and bright, and painless.

**Author's Note:**

> Hanahaki Disease is so much fun to write.
> 
> My Twitter, where I scream about IT (usually Richie and Eddie) among other things: [@mortimerdeadsea](https://twitter.com/mortimerdeadsea)


End file.
